


when the rain stopped

by SineadRivka



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SineadRivka/pseuds/SineadRivka
Summary: Owen was too late. He had raced up the stairs as fast as he could, but he knew that he would be too late. The Indoraptor, for whatever reason, was obsessed with Maisie. Blind focus. No discernable cause or reason. He ran up the final steps and grabbed the door handle, wrenching it open and coming face-to-snout with a very,veryangry Indoraptor.Well.He was toast.





	when the rain stopped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossoverAUman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossoverAUman/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to crossoverAUman! Surprise!

Owen was too late. He had raced up the stairs as fast as he could, but he knew that he would be too late. The Indoraptor, for whatever reason, was obsessed with Maisie. Blind focus. No discernable cause or reason. He ran up the final steps and grabbed the door handle, wrenching it open and coming face-to-snout with a very, _very_ angry Indoraptor.

Well.

He was toast.

Fuck.

Something about this raptor scared him in a way that his own raptor pack could never do. It scared him more than the Indominus rex.

He couldn’t even adopt the strong stance that he had developed with the raptors.

He was going to die.

“No! Stop! _Stop!_ ”

The Indoraptor came up short, blinking, but the snarl didn’t leave the monster’s throat.

That had been Maisie’s voice.

_Oh my god. She’s **alive**._

Owen watched her, saw how she was still trembling, saw that she was scared, but _respectful_ of the creature she walked up beside. She didn’t touch it, but she was close enough to have been eaten several times over.

“Maisie?” Owen whispered, eyes not leaving the Indoraptor. He could hear/feel/sense Blue pausing at the last landing before the stairs turned towards Maisie’s room. His clever girl was assessing the situation before jumping headlong into the fray.

The little girl looked up at the creature, then raised a hand out. The Indoraptor bowed under it, pressing her nose up into the little palm. And Maisie spoke. “He didn’t kill me. He smelled me, and he calmed down. Like he _knows_ something about me.”

Owen had known that feeling with Blue. He _knew_ why. He didn’t _like_ why.

“Do you think you can keep him behaved?”

“Everyone will kill him. They’ll kill _me_.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s different. I’m a clone, too.”

Drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he murmured, “I don’t know how this could be a good idea in any situation.”

Maisie began to look distressed. “Owen, I _know_ he’s going to need a lot of work. I saw your videos. I know how you trained the raptors from babies. He hasn’t had any of that. He’s been isolated his entire life.” She winced. “Also like me.”

Owen nodded slowly. “Blue’s wild, but she . . . was created to be a little _less_ wild. They used my DNA to make her realize that she and I were kin. That’s why she’s my girl, my beta. It wasn’t something I knew about until . . . later. Much later. None of the other raptors shared that link with me.”

“I think they used Mom’s . . . _my_ DNA in this. In _him_.”

Blue stepped up beside Owen, confidence embodied in a prehistoric form.

And the Indoraptor took that confidence in, eyes darting from the little one beside her to Owen, to Blue, and back again. Breathing a sigh of relief, the raptor handler was grateful to see that behavior, judging the “other pack” but trusting his leader to give him the cues. “He’s following your lead. Oh _damn_ , I want to know what Wu cooked into this creature more than ever. Do you think that he’ll listen to you?”

“Not if you want him back in a cage.”

He thought quickly “No cages. Maybe a large enclosure, large enough that will make other people _think_ that it’ll keep him in, but one that he can easily leave to come to you. If Blue wants to stay with me, that’s something that I’ll be making, too.”

“I think . . . he recognizes dominance? Like, if I listen to you, he’ll listen to both you _and_ me?”

“I don’t want to test that, not right now.” He felt Blue step closer to his shoulder, pushing her head against it urgently, then turn and look down the stairs. Owen carefully did the same, not wanting to turn his back on the Indoraptor, with blood still staining it’s- _his_ muzzle. “Claire! Stand down! I think we figured out how to control it!”

“So I don’t need the gun?”

“Maybe? Stay there. We’ll come to you.” He turned to look at Maisie, who was now letting the Indoraptor rub against her shoulder like Blue had done against Owen’s. “He’s almost _too_ smart. I hope that he’s not plotting something.” He turned and walked down the stairs, deliberate in his movements.

~*~

After Maisie released the dinosaurs, they waited in the main sitting room for Iris to return. The old woman had not gotten far when she had been removed from her charge over Maisie and ended up barricading herself in her rooms while continuing to pack up. She had left the property to meet with some lawyers, who were apparently on-call for Lockwood at any time of the day or night. She loved Maisie, but she also knew that she’d be overwhelmed with raising a rambunctious little girl with her own murderous dinosaur following at her heels like a duckling. It was calm, quiet.

As it turned out, the Indoraptor wasn’t plotting anything. He was a bare year old according to the files that Franklin had been able to decrypt and display for the small group. That was old enough to have created some absolutely _shitty_ habits, but ones that were trained out when he saw how Blue behaved towards Owen. What had shocked the trio of humans was the Indoraptor’s response to the injury that he had inflicted upon Claire unwittingly. He had smelled the blood while Zia changed the dressing, looked to Maisie, and then made a clear noise of distress. He had learned very quickly that blood on a human that was part of his new pack was Not Good.

Maisie pointed to Claire’s leg. “ _You_ did that.”

The hybrid blinked twice.

Maisie repeated it, then pointed from his claw to Claire’s leg. “You. Hurt. Claire. Bad. _Bad_ raptor.”

The crest flattened against the back of the animal’s skull and neck, eyes widening and pupils fluctuating in size with his shock and dismay. He was made to walk over and sniff at the fresh bandage, another repeat of what his action had done, then told to say sorry.

Owen frowned at that last bit, looking to Claire, who was holding very, _very_ still.

There was another low moan, a bow to press its and upper body to the ground, and the Indoraptor made chick noises of distress and apology. Owen’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, _shit_ , that’s a true raptor apology. Blue’s done that with me _many_ times. Maisie, reward him! Quick!”

She crooned happily, holding her hand out again to pet the deformed skull, grabbing a piece of jerky that Owen had pilfered from the kitchens. “Good boy. Ready?” She tossed the jerky up in the air, and the Indoraptor caught it on the fall. “Good boy!” The gaping grin of a raptor was not something that many people would see as friendly, but Maisie had seen Blue’s grin enough over the last three hours to recognize it on the Indoraptor’s face. “He needs a name.”

Grinning, the raptor handler and behaviorist settled himself on a bench. “Well, that’s on you. It’s not a bad idea.”

“We’re going to have to keep him hidden from a lot of people, though.”

He could tell that the little girl was getting tired. “Also not a bad idea.” He caught Claire’s soft smile.

Less than five minutes later, Maisie fell into an exhausted slumber against Claire’s side. The Indoraptor, still unnamed, looked a little lost, shuffling from foot to foot and keening softly so as not to wake his Alpha. Owen stood up very slowly, then reached a hand out, palm-up as he was now greeting Blue. She preferred being able to rest her chin upon his palm versus pushing up against it. It was a respect of equals.

The large head swung back and forth for a few moments before the chin rested softly upon Owen’s hand. He was trying not to tremble, but he knew that he didn’t have the same lack of fear of this creature that Maisie exhibited. “Hey, boy. Good boy.”

“Good boy” was now a phrase that the Indoraptor seemed to grasp and love. Owen kept his palm upon the bottom of the creature’s jaw, gently letting the skin catch as he took a small step backwards, leading him into an area of the room with better lighting.

“Can we groom you, boy? I know you don’t understand English, but look at Blue.” Owen looked to Blue as an example, then asked her, “Grooming?”

A happy thrum met his word, and Blue pranced closer, arching her neck and presenting the back of it for him to inspect wounds, gently rub off flaking skin, and create some calm intimacy between packmates. It was good for the Indoraptor to see. Halfway through grooming Blue, the Indoraptor started making those baritone chick-noises again, wanting some of the attention. Chuckling softly, Owen looked at Blue. “Good for a moment, beautiful?”

This was something that had happened often when they had a full pack. Owen would begin by grooming Blue, and if the injured pack member wanted some affection without seeming to look “weak” in the eyes of her packmates, they would wait patiently, then make the appropriate noises to beg for grooming. Just like how the Indoraptor was doing now. Blue would often bask in some sunlight while she waited for Owen to finish with one of her sisters, then close out the grooming session. She didn’t mind getting half at the beginning and half at the end. It was her way of caring for her pack’s mental and physical health.

But tonight This gave Owen the time and excuse he needed to really get a look into what kind of shape their new boy was in. And when he was finished and the juvenile Indoraptor was sated and dozing in front of Claire and Maisie, halfway between their couch and the door (and any threats), he let his head fall into his hands.

If that creature lived to be two years old, it would take a miracle.

~*~

Ten months later, the Indoraptor was absolutely _thriving_. Damn Wu, but he turned genetic modification into an art. His health was steadily improving, his skin no longer cracked and peeling due to what had turned out to be an allergic reaction to the cleansers that the lab workers had used on him.

The smart fucker was picking up new English words and phrases every damn day, and there _had_ to have been some raven in his genetics because he was also damn good at imitating voices. Which has been creepy at first, until they all started playing harmless pranks on one another by answering for the wrong person. The intellectual stretch was good for both Maisie and her raptor.

Owen was on a video-call on the porch with two experts in their fields, carefully out of the way of any running juveniles when the Indoraptor clearly scrambled through the house from the back door to the front door and kept going. He glanced, saw the crest (now feathers and not just the proto-feather pinions) high with attitude and happiness. He wondered what the boy had stolen this time in the back of his head, not even pausing in his discussion, until Maisie thumped to a halt at the edge of the porch, hands on knees and panting.

“John, I swear to God, if you don’t give that back, you won’t get tucked in and get your lovies tonight!”

He warbled a clear taunt, dancing in place with what looked like a half-finished art project. It was shiny. Totally blaming possible raven genes for a lot of things with that damned creature.

“Fine! Keep it, you damned feather-brained klepto! Not like I needed it for school anyway. Jerk.”

There was silence for a moment, and Owen looked over his shoulder, “He needs a hunt, Maisie.”

“I _know_ , but I can’t go with you on the hunts until Blue comes back.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the Indoraptor.

A tinny voice asked over the video, “Did-did you just call that animal ‘John?’”

Maisie nodded. “Yep. After John Hammond.”

The man on the left, wearing weather-beaten clothing and dust in his hair, shook his head and chuckled. The man on the right, wearing pristine black clothing and had a very groomed look, blinked twice. It had been this man who had asked the question.

The young girl smiled tightly, the expression oddly adult upon her young face. “After all. John protested the ethics and morality of _my_ creation, then went on to make some pretty shitty decisions about what he _could_ clone something without thinking if he _should_ clone something. At least I didn’t name her Henry. I might still take his kneecaps out with my baseball bat if I see him again.”

“Owen, I like her. Maisie, I’m Doctor Ian Malcom.”

“I know. And that’s Doctor Alan Grant. I’ve read a lot of his work to try to understand my idiot child.”

Owen was wheezing with laughter at her self-possessed matter-of-fact mannerism. Nothing could shake her anymore. She faced a nightmare and tamed the damned thing. Doctor Grant was grinning broadly. “Now, you couldn’t get me out there for all the money in the world, but if _you_ want to come out _here_ and dig with me, I’d be happy to see you, Maisie.”

She grinned suddenly. “You wouldn’t like that very much at all.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t go anywhere for more than four hours before John gets anxious. We can’t figure out why. So, he’d have to come with me to your dig sites, and that might scare people off. He’s not anything like any of the _real_ raptors that you’ve studied. Neither is Blue for that matter.” Her hand was automatically going up to touch John’s snout as he pushed closer for attention. His plumage along his crest and on either side of the armor-like keratin growths along his back matched his eyes, the colors of fire and fall foliage. It softened and balanced his look, making him look less like an incomplete puzzle or a half-feathered toucan. “He also has some health issues that make it hard for us to travel right now, and he only likes Doctor Zia for his vet needs. She tried to bring a colleague, but he hated the other lady.”

“Zia is the one who saved Blue when shit hit the fan,” Owen filled in as an aside, but didn’t say anything more. Seeing his little girl gush about the ugliest “dog” he had ever seen was always a treat. She didn’t get a chance to do this too often.

Doctor Grant was the next to speak up. “You seem to have a very close bond with him.”

“He began it.” She grinned wryly. “He didn’t eat me.” Her hand found another feather half-poking out of its sheath along the bottom side of his jaw, and carefully eased it free, discarding the sheath off the side of the porch and running her hands through the stiff plumage to see if she could find any more. Her gaze was locked on her raptor’s, knowing that he was still skittish about her touching his throat any more than was necessary. “He’s loyal. They created him that way. But they didn’t know what he was capable of with that loyalty because they kept him locked up and away from anyone who could have helped him learn and grow the right way.”

“You said that he has health problems?”

“He’s imperfect,” she replied softly. “I’m happy he’s lived this long. He doesn’t digest some meats very well, and his immune system is compo-uh . . . _compromised_ if he gets too cold. He has insomnia, which doesn’t help his mood any, and he’s got some allergies. He has anxiety, and he plucked all of his first feathers that he could reach out of his skin out of stress when he was in the cage before the auction.” Maisie’s voice was soft, and she patted Owen’s arm. He leaned over, grabbed the jar of coconut oil that had been left outside overnight for Blue’s grooming session when she returned, and handed it to her.

While she rubbed the oil into the ridges around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, Owen took over. “We’re still trying to get his genome decoded. What we have found is that he responds positively to natural soap ingredients, oils, and butters over synthetic ones. Also, John might not have Blue’s maturity, but he has intelligence that is almost comparable.”

“And he’s still socially stunted.”

“Yeah, but he’s still teachable, which is more than what you could say for Ol’ Sue. There are certainly some intellectual disconnects for a raptor. I think that’s partially to blame upon the Indominus genome base.”

“Possible that rex genes have played a part with that disconnect?”

“It’s possible. Zia says that Wu wanted Blue’s blood to stabilize the second generation of Indoraptor.”

“I’m still surprised at her ingenuity and ability to save a-a raptor without losing a hand. _Or_ that you and Claire were-were, uh, able to uh, get a blood donation from the rex.” Malcolm shook his head.

“I never said it was _smart_ , but . . . Blue’s my girl. I couldn’t let her die if I could help it.”

He saw the shadows outlining his porch shift and change, and Owen smiled. “Speak of the devil herself. Blue!”

She jumped off of the porch roof, landing without any indication of wounds or weakness. John moved away from Owen with haste, having lost to Blue once before after they had all ended up here on the homestead. He wasn’t about to make that mistake a second time. She came up and sniffed Owen’s face, then along his armpits and the back of his shoulders before thrumming in contentment that he was healthy. Then she turned to look at the screen and chittered happily.

Grant smiled, lips covering his teeth. He had “met” Blue mere days after she was out of the shell over video conference. As much as he hated raptors, as much as he hated what Hammond had done, as much has he hated seeing the reanimation of the animal he had spent his career studying, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of attachment to the wild creature. “Hello, Blue. How’s my favorite homicidal puppy doing today?”

Maisie’s jaw dropped, and Owen snorted a laugh as Blue replied in raptor-speak, chittering, clicking, and _clearly_ ranting about something to Alan. She always loved talking to the people on the screen that Owen talked to. She was the most willing to attempt communication and connection with her Alpha’s choice of humans. Of the other three, only Charlie was the next most-interested, but mostly because she was an attention-hog and loved hearing humans coo at her. Alan made noises of assent and communicated back words of praise and agreement or outraged shock at the more severe-sounding noises. John warbled from behind the little girl, unsure of what to say or do around this side of Blue, but unwilling to come closer to the wily female.

At the moment that he settled himself and let his plumage relax into something a little less stressed, Blue turned to look directly at him. John dropped his head even further, trying to look even smaller than his tiny human companion.

Both raptors were clearly in view of the webcam that Owen had set up. Alan leaned closer, watching their interaction. John continued to station his head below Blue’s, calling a plaintive plea. She barked softly, just the once, and he walked over slowly, careful not to challenge her as he approached both her and her alpha. His feathers stayed as relaxed as he could keep them, except for his crest, which was raised in interest.

Alan looked to Blue. “Well my queen, can I say hello to your ragtag subject?”

Maisie snorted a giggle, covering her mouth with her hands. Blue held her head higher and chuffed once in permission.

Alan nodded once, then addressed the Indoraptor. “Hello, John.”

John jumped back with a squawk, blinking once before leaning closer. Owen moved out of the way, standing on Blue’s other side but careful to make sure that she had any exit route that she could have wanted.

The old paleontologist smiled again and modulated his voice to a different range to see how the raptor would respond. “Hello, John.” This time, the raptor didn’t jump back, but instead leaned in to sniff at the screen, pause and then look around behind it to try to find the tiny humans. “John, back over here.”

The head retreated and a low chitter confirmed that he was one confused murder puppy.

Blue reassured him with a low thrum before chirping her unique greeting to Ian, purposefully making herself sound younger and harmless. Ian cleared his throat and raised his hand. “Uh, hello.”

She made a more adult-greeting to Alan, who chuckled and nodded. “Hi again, Blue.” And then she looked to John, who imitated her as best he could, catching on swiftly that Ian was “fragile pack ally” while Alan was “pack ally.”

And as Maisie tucked herself under Owen’s arm, she pressed her ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat and they watched their raptors with smiles on their faces. Their choice of companions were not cute, only one was fluffy, and both had killed several humans.

Claire joined them not too long after, having finished her work for the day. She took Owen’s other side, reaching a hand around to gently stroke her daughter’s hair and then tap the button nose with a small smile.

It was a strange family, but it worked for them.


End file.
